It was April 2008. I was working on a final piece of furniture in the prison woodshop, trying to finish it before my imminent release.
I was injured at work last month – a nail gun mishap - my first serious accident in five years of doing construction work since leaving prison. This job is like life; sooner or later you get hurt, usually from some stupid mistake.
Overcoming many obstacles, Pornchai Moontri, Alberto Ramos, and seven other prisoners receive their high school diplomas in a model prison education program.
The morning I left prison, I carried two black garbage bags packed with letters and legal papers across the yard to the gate in the chain-link fence separating the Reception and Diagnostic Unit from the general population.